


Ink

by imbrokelyn99



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: M/M, Tattoos, super sickly sweet fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 18:09:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18946180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imbrokelyn99/pseuds/imbrokelyn99
Summary: Patrick gets a tattoo.





	Ink

“God, my mom’s mourning over ‘Crows’ is stressing me out, and I’ve already done literally everything I can for her, including sit through wig training so I can handle them properly,” David whined, his fingers worrying absentmindedly at one of the four gold rings on his left hand.

Patrick gazed on at him from across the checkout counter, eyes full of amusement. “You went through wig training? Isn’t that like a four-hour long thing?”

David closed his eyes and tilted his head back. “Okay. Yes. Four hours of listening to my mom describe _in detail_ how I have to use different types of gloves with different types of hair. And right after, she gave me a brush and Magdalena and skulked off to the closet.” 

Patrick chuckled and took David’s hands in his as he rested his elbows on the table. He rubbed his thumb soothingly over his husband’s skin and watched David’s face contort into something that was rather full of affection. “You are so brave and considerate, David,” he said. 

David offered him a half smile. “Mmkay, well, I’m just trying to make it so that my mom doesn’t start living in the closet full time.”

Patrick quirked an eyebrow and laughed. David, realizing the joke, chuckled with him.

“Listen,” Patrick said, straightening up and checking his phone for the time, “I’ve got an errand to run right now. I’ll be back in an hour or two. Will you be okay till then, or are you too distressed by your mom’s mourning to hold down the fort?” 

David scoffed. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of our store, Patrick. Where are you off to?”

Patrick walked around the counter and gave David a quick kiss. “Tell you later, running late!”

David watched as his husband tossed him a smile over his shoulder as he shut the Apothecary door behind him. 

***

An hour and a half later, David was in the middle of up-selling a client on their new bath salts when Patrick walked in. Patrick winked at him when he caught his eye and felt a thrill of pleasure when he noticed the pink creeping up his husband’s neck. 

There was a steady stream of customers at the store that day, so when David finally flipped the sign to closed at 5 p.m. on the dot, the pair both breathed a sigh of relief at finally being left alone. Patrick was behind the counter, making quick work of balancing the register. David glided over behind his husband and wrapped his arms around his waist, pressing a chaste kiss behind Patrick’s ear.

“Almost done here. Do you wanna order pizza for dinner?” Patrick asked. David rested his chin on Patrick’s shoulder and nodded. 

Ten minutes later, they’d locked up for the night and made their way home to their apartment, fingers tangled together as their joint hands swung between them. 

As soon as they made it into their apartment, David crowded Patrick against the door and pressed their lips together. He felt Patrick laugh against him.

“Hi,” David said, pressing kisses to Patrick’s cheek, jaw, neck.

“Hi,” Patrick replied breathlessly, running his hands across his husband’s broad shoulders and pulling him closer. “I missed you.”

David huffed a laugh against Patrick’s skin. “Did you not see me working next to you all day, or did your brain just block that out?” he said.

Patrick chuckled. “No, I mean—“ he cupped the back of David’s neck, fingers tangling in his hair, and guided his husband’s face to his for a warm kiss— “I _missed_ you. This.” 

David smiled. “Love you,” he said, and he pressed another kiss to his husband’s lips. Patrick hummed his appreciation.

“David...I wanna show you something.”

David pulled back and quirked an eyebrow, curious. Patrick took his hand and guided him to the couch. David sat across from Patrick, gazing at him expectantly. 

“How do you feel...about tattoos?” Patrick asked. A smirk appeared on David’s mouth.

“I would have asked if you had a scandalous little tramp stamp to show me, but I’ve seen every inch of you already,” David joked, taking Patrick’s hand and pressing a kiss to the inside of his wrist. Patrick grinned.

“No, no tramp stamps. But seriously...what do you think?”

David considered the question as he absentmindedly played with Patrick’s fingers. “I mean, I usually like them on other people. If they’re nice. And I’ve thought about getting one a few times, but I couldn’t commit. I guess it’s like Kim Kardashian’s bumper sticker on a Bentley thing for me. Why?”

Patrick schooled his face into a neutral expression. “I don’t know what that reference means but...I did something today.”

David’s face broke. “Did you get a tattoo?” he asked, his tone mildly tinged with panic. 

Patrick bit his lip. “So...I’ve been thinking about getting something similar to this one for a while, but I couldn’t settle on the details. The last few months, I’ve been turning it over in my head and I figured it out. So that errand I went on today...that’s when I got it.”

David looked like he couldn’t breathe. “Can I see it?” 

Patrick nodded and started unbuttoning his shirt. David raised an eyebrow, momentarily distracted by the action, which he associated with _other_ things, and Patrick chuckled, shaking his head. He slipped the button-up off his shoulders to reveal his plain white undershirt. David scanned the newly exposed skin and zeroed in on Patrick’s left arm, where a piece of cling film was taped to a patch of skin. 

“I have to, um, clean it, but...” Patrick said. He gingerly pulled the cling film off and showed David his new tattoo. He watched David’s eyes take in the piece. 

Just above Patrick’s elbow, on the outer half of his bicep, sat two measures of sheet music. The lines were straight, black, and carefully drawn. It had a treble clef on one end and a smattering of notes as the music continued across his arm. The skin was irritated and there was a thin film of watery plasma over it, so David wordlessly got up and stepped into the kitchen, and he returned to the couch with a damp paper towel a moment later. 

He took Patrick’s arm and pressed the towel against it gently, slowly cleaning away the fluid. Patrick watched his work, eyes full of love and adoration for his husband. When David was done, he pressed a kiss to the tattoo.

“Patrick, it’s beautiful,” he said. Patrick’s heart swelled and he smiled. 

“Thank you, David. I realised after I got it that I didn’t even think to consult with you about it since I’d been thinking about getting it for so long. I’m sorry if you felt blindsided by it,” Patrick said sincerely, taking David’s hands in his own. 

David smiled and kissed Patrick’s knuckles. “Patrick, you don’t have to ask my permission to decorate your body. I love you, and I love your body, love your skin, no matter what you do to it.” 

Patrick raised his eyebrows. “Really? Would you still love me if I got my tongue pierced?” 

David pressed his lips together. “Uh—“

“What about if I got a full back tattoo if your dad’s face? Would you still love me then?” Patrick said with a smirk.

“Okay, I know you’re joking, but in case you’re not, that’s absolutely grounds for divorce and I will _not_ let you do that to yourself,” David said, grimacing at the thought of his father’s face permanently inked into his husband’s back.

Patrick laughed and pulled David’s face to his, kissing him soundly.

Later, after they’d gorged on pizza and gotten cleaned up for bed, they settled into the pillows and sheets, warm and happy. Patrick sat up against the headboard, reading through another book about entrepreneurship, and David was cuddled up to him, head resting on his husband’s chest. David pulled away suddenly. 

“Where’s your arm?” he asked. Patrick looked at him quizzically before extracting his left arm from behind David’s back and showing it to him again. He’d applied a thin layer of moisturiser on the tattoo, and David recognised the scent. 

“Is this Mrs. Neeley’s honey aloe moisturiser?” David asked.

“Yeah, the aloe is really good for moisturising and honey is antibacterial, so it’s a good product for tattoo aftercare,” Patrick replied simply. David looked up at him, shocked. His husband noticed David’s look and laughed. “I’ve done my research on this stuff, David.” 

“I know, because you’re you. That was just so cute, you knowing about the properties of those ingredients like that. I usually have to tell you those things.” 

Patrick smiled and leaned down to kiss David. “You don’t think I’d have picked up a few things by now?” he asked with a chuckle. David grinned and pressed another quick kiss to Patrick’s lips before returning his attention to the tattoo. He traced the linework, fingers ghosting over the inky eighth notes and the treble clef at the beginning of the staff. 

“You like it?” Patrick asked softly, watching his husband learn the new bumps and ridges on his skin. 

“I do. It’s gorgeous. What’s the music?”

Patrick bit back a smile. David noticed the silence and looked up at Patrick expectantly. 

“It’s the opening bars of ‘Simply the Best,’” Patrick said shyly. David’s jaw dropped. 

“ _Patrick_ ,” he said softly, his voice heavy with emotion. 

“I, um. I knew I wanted to get sheet music tattooed on me, but I didn’t know which song to get. And then I met you. And I married you. And this song...it’s like the soundtrack to how drastically my life has changed. Two years ago, I was lost, confused, heartbroken over the death of my past life, and then you came in and turned my whole world upside down. I am so indescribably, incandescently happy with you, David,” Patrick said, his hands seeking out his husbands’. “I love you, and I love this song because it reminds me of you and of this new life we’ve built together.”

David closed his eyes and leaned back. Patrick smiled, knowing this was David’s way of trying desperately not to cry. He kissed David’s knuckles, fingertips, the lines on his palms. 

“That is literally the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever said. Even better than the Downtown Christmas Special,” David said. Patrick laughed. 

“Come here. I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too,” David said, leaning in to kiss his husband soundly, his fingers returning to trace the lines of the tattoo, his heart full of love and adoration for the man he decided to share his life with.

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout as always to the SC discord, the loves of my life. May soft punk Noah live on forever.


End file.
